Stay Beautiful
by Princess Kitty1
Summary: -AU- One victim, one smoking gun, and an unforgettable stormy night with one gorgeous songstress. Has the overconfident detective Ulquiorra Cifer finally met his match?


**A/N: **Hello there, and thank you for joining me! This one-shot is not supposed to be funny, I swear. But it's crack at its finest. Inspired by the anime ending theme: _Stay Beautiful_. And it's meant as a celebration of several things: my birthday, the new Bleach character book coming out on June 3rd that's promising a ton of Ulquiorra-related goodies, and summertime. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach, the song "Enchantment" by Corinne Bailey Rae, or any other copyrighted material.

**Stay Beautiful**

**By: Princess Kitty1**

As with most mysteries, it was a dark and stormy night when the body was found floating face-down in the bay. Early evening, really, but the only person who took note of that was detective Ulquiorra Cifer, called on the scene to investigate. Had it not been for the fact that he had a report to fill out, he wouldn't have bothered with the umbrella tucked under his arm, held crookedly and dripping water onto the back of his trench coat. But he couldn't turn soggy paper in to the office; no, it just _had _to be neat. Apparently no one but him (and doctors) could decipher indeterminate scribbles.

"Found his wallet. Belongings and such intact," Officer Kaien Shiba approached, slipping the dripping articles into plastic evidence bags. "Name's Ichigo Kurosaki, age twenty-four. Worked for that big computer company downtown that's been rumored to have stepped on the toes of the mob lately. It was a clean job; one bullet to the back of the head, point blank range. Might have been someone he knew, the poor bastard."

"Hmm," said Ulquiorra in a disinterested tone as he attempted to write, using his arm as a surface. If he weren't such a penny-pincher, he'd have invested in a clipboard. "Anything else?"

"We think he might have floated downstream for a while, but it's hard to tell. Rain and such is hampering our ability to guess. We'll just have to wait for forensics to process the information." Officer Shiba shivered as a number of his partners fished the corpse out of the bay. "Say, don't you think he looks a lot like me? Can't say that's a very good omen…"

"If you _were _dying soon, surely the fates would have given you a more obvious sign, like a shrieking banshee, coming in through your window." Ulquiorra clicked his pen. "Now, if you'll excuse me."

Did Ulquiorra enjoy his job? It was hard to say. He didn't complain, and he was very good at it, but he never seemed to be happy, either. Perhaps it was that ultimate poker face that made him the best detective in the city. He'd worked with the police on numerous cases in the past – according to rumor, even staying up all night, glaring at pieces of evidence or scribbled names before quietly declaring that he'd figured out "who done it". As for his interrogation tactics… well. There wasn't a single person he hadn't gotten a confession out of in less than twenty-four hours.

So tonight's job, he expected, would be fairly routine. One victim, one bullet, one smoking gun, and one list of Kurosaki's friends and family (home and work addresses neatly scrawled next to names). He checked his watch: it was 8:49pm. Yes, he could have this done by tomorrow.

…

Telling Kurosaki's girlfriend wasn't easy. The short, raven-haired woman didn't show many outward signs of stress, but her voice quivered and every once in a while she would reach up to catch a tear before it fell. Ulquiorra would have been grateful for her rigid composure – he wasn't very good at calming hysterical women – but he could see that she was suffering inside. Another detective probably would have mistaken her behavior for a killer's lack of remorse.

"We were best friends, the two of us." Rukia Kuchiki sat across from Ulquiorra on her living room sofa, wringing her hands. "When he went missing, I-I didn't want to fear the worst, but considering what's been happening with his company recently… I wasn't exactly expecting good news, either."

"So you were the one who reported him gone," Ulquiorra said smoothly, remembering the details he had already gathered from headquarters.

"Yes. He was supposed to come over for breakfast yesterday." Rukia blinked back more tears. "He wasn't really a sap for romance, but he was always punctual. Always kept his promises. That's how I knew…"

"Rest assured, Ms. Kuchiki, we will do everything we can to catch Mr. Kurosaki's killer." Ulquiorra stood up, surprising her. He'd seen all that he needed to see: this woman was innocent. Producing a card from the inside of his coat, he placed it on the coffee table in front of her. "If you remember anything that might aid the investigation, no matter how trivial you think it might be, don't hesitate to call."

Rukia nodded once, and stared at the card on the table. As soon as Ulquiorra was out the door, he heard the sobs begin.

…

"Kurosaki and I went to high school together," Uryuu Ishida, shoulders drooping, brought out a photo for Ulquiorra to see. It was a group picture; the victim with his girlfriend and classmates. "I'm sure you'll be interviewing some of them tonight. There's, uh, Ms. Inoue – she should be at work right now. God, I wonder if anyone's told her…"

Ulquiorra eyed the redhead in the photo briefly before following Uryuu's pointing finger. "That's Sado, Renji Abarai, Chizuru Honsho, Tatsuki Arisawa, Mizuiro and Keigo."

"Yes, I've got them all on this list." Ulquiorra straightened in his chair, turning a reflective gaze to the window. Rain splattered against the glass, thunder purring in the sky above. "Let's cut to the chase, Mr. Ishida, since you seem to be level-headed enough. Can you tell me if any of these people had some sort of grudge against Kurosaki?"

"Grudge?" The black haired man looked surprised behind his glasses. "No, Kurosaki didn't really have enemies. I mean, Byakuya Kuchiki, his girlfriend's older brother, didn't approve of them dating at first, but he gave his blessing a few years later." He leaned forward, fingers intertwining as he contemplated. "Kurosaki butted heads with Renji and I, but it was all in good fun."

"And where were you yesterday afternoon?"

"I was with Ms. Inoue. She said she'd been feeling under the weather and needed help bringing her groceries in. I made her some tea and came home at around seven."

The redhead again. Ulquiorra glanced at the photo, noticed the proximity of the busty girl and the victim. "Really," he murmured.

"You know what? I just remembered," Uryuu snapped his fingers, "Kurosaki didn't get along with his neighbor. A guy named Grimmjow Jaegerjaques. Couldn't stand each other, those two; always at each other's throats." He lowered his voice. "And I'd, uh… heard rumors that Jaegerjaques had ties to the mob."

Ulquiorra's eyebrow lifted. "How did you know that the police were suspecting the mob?"

"I'm a reporter."

"Oh." He checked his notes again. "So you are." Ulquiorra stood then, wondering who he should visit next: the older brother, the redhead, or the neighbor. He hated going for the most obvious suspect first; it sucked the fun out of his job. But it was cold outside, and he was kind of hungry. Perhaps getting this out of the way as quickly as possible would do him some good. "I will assume that you know how to get back in contact with me, should you remember anything else."

"Certainly," replied Uryuu.

"Also, what time should I expect Ms. Inoue to get off of work?"

The man's glasses slid down his nose. "You can't tell me that she's a suspect."

"_Everyone _is a suspect," Ulquiorra reminded him.

…

"Kurosaki's _dead_?" Grimmjow Jaegerjaques, a wild-eyed man with blue hair and a tattoo on his arm that Ulquiorra identified as one of the city's gang symbols, leaned against his doorframe, staring at the door of his late neighbor's apartment. "No kidding." He chuckled. "I suppose that next you're going to tell me I'm a suspect."

"Correct."

"Well, sorry to disappoint. I was nowhere near… where'd you say you found him? The bay?" Grimmjow shook his head. "Had a dentist appointment, actually. You can call the office and ask."

"You were at a dentist appointment all day?"

"Obviously not. Before then I was working, down at the factory on Las Noches Boulevard, and after the dentist appointment I came home, but Kurosaki wasn't back. All his lights were off."

Ulquiorra scrutinized the man's expression: stubbornness, hiding something between sadness and anger. "Were you and Kurosaki friends, by any chance?"

"Hell no!" Grimmjow barked, snorting with disgust. "Always fighting about something! Always bitching! God, I've never seen a face I've wanted to punch so badly in my life!" He quieted down. "I know that ain't helping my cause, but trust me, I didn't kill him. Just 'cause I didn't like him doesn't make him a bad guy, you know? We just didn't get along. But he let me stay over, once, when I got locked out of the apartment and the manager wasn't in to unlock it for me."

"You don't say?" Ulquiorra muttered distractedly as he texted one of his contacts, telling them to check out Jaegerjaques' alibi in the morning.

Grimmjow laughed humorlessly. "Yeah… and I didn't even thank him for it." He looked at the door again. "Dead, huh?"

"Mr. Jaegerjaques, do you remember seeing anything strange in the days before the murder? Anyone stalking the neighborhood that you didn't recognize? Visitors of Mr. Kurosaki's that you'd never seen before?"

The blue haired man gave it some thought. "Yeah, now that you mention it." He pushed off of the doorframe. "Redheaded chick," he held up his hands to cup imaginary breasts, "huge knockers. You could break a piñata open with those things."

"Thank you for that lovely mental image."

"She came by to bring Kurosaki some bread. He seemed to know her. They made a bunch of noise, but she didn't go in or anything. Left in one of those fancy black town cars."

"I see." He made a mental note of it and turned to descend the stairs.

"Oi, Ulquiorra. You're kind of uptight these days, aren't ya?" Grimmjow's voice stopped him. He turned to the man and narrowed his eyes. "All the formalities and shit, I mean. What, you think you're something special now that you're out of the mob?"

"You and I were never friends, Grimmjow. Of course I'd refer to you by surname. And by the way, tell Yammy that his family misses him, but they're safe."

"Ah, never mind. You've always been gung-ho for justice and all that crap." Grimmjow watched his retreating back, and called out once last time. "He told me to thank you, though! I'll pass on the message."

…

At this point, Ulquiorra was fairly certain that a trip to Byakuya Kuchiki would be unnecessary. Besides, getting into the Kuchiki manor was hard enough with all the security that one had to be cleared by. It was raining and his socks were wet, making him far too irritable to chance being frisked by anybody.

So he made his way to a local lounge; one of those underground deals that featured live jazz performances every evening. He didn't fail to notice the small chalk sign by the door: _Live Tonight! Orihime Inoue!_

Coming down a small staircase, he lingered in the shadows at the back as his eyes began to adjust to the darkness. Then a spotlight came on, illuminating the curvaceous form of a woman in a crimson dress with long red hair pulled up into a messy bun. Two wavy strands tumbled over her shoulders, unnecessarily pointing to the cleavage that could have been seen from a mile away. She gently caressed the microphone stand, her painted lips parting as she began to sing.

"_I wait for you. I don't know why. All I know is I can't hide. At this temperature, you could take over my mind_." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, swaying gently. "_Like gossamer, you softly touch. He draws me in, I'm powerless. He possesses an enchantment_."

Two blue lights came on, illuminating a strawberry blond and a dark-skinned back-up singer. Ms. Inoue continued. "_Tell me I'm forgiven. He calls, don't know how I fell under his spell…_" She closed her eyes. "_Lately, I've been driven… he smiles… an enchantment._"

Ulquiorra stayed where he was, hoping to remain unobserved. He'd have to catch her after the show.

"_I wait for you. I'm mesmerized. This love is like a potion in disguise. I'd tightrope walk with a blindfold on my eyes_." She moved along with the beat, putting on a troubled expression. "_I can't escape – or so it seems. I'd run away, he's in my dreams. He possesses an enchantment._"

The back-up singers came back in. "_Tell me I'm forgiven. He calls, don't know I fell under his spell… Lately, I've been driven… he smiles… an enchantment_."

The music paused, and her sweet voice tantalized the gentlemen in the audience. "_It's the kind of sleepwalk that never ends. It's a type of loan with no dividends. It's a parlor game where you're given chase. Guess it could be called an acquired taste… I know, he knows, he calls, I go. I know this could be an enchantment_.

"_Why don't you tell me I'm forgiven? He calls, don't know how I fell under his spell…_" She looked weary. "_I'm forgiven… lately… I've been driven…_"

Her eyes met Ulquiorra's. "_And I give in._"

She finished off the song, "_An enchantment._"

Well, so the girl could sing. Anything to earn a living, Ulquiorra supposed. He checked the time on his cell phone, saw that it had been two hours since her performance had started. Would she be available to talk now? He looked up towards the stage again, and was surprised to find the woman gone. Where in the world…?

"Can I get you something, sir?" a blank-faced waitress with short black hair – her name tag read Nemu – asked quietly.

"Tell me, will Ms. Inoue be singing again tonight?"

"I am afraid not. She has probably gone home already. Would you like me to take a message?"

"That's quite alright." Ulquiorra had her address, after all. It wasn't too far of a walk, though he wished that the rain would let up already. At this rate, he'd catch nothing but pneumonia.

…

Orihime Inoue lived in a bad part of town. Strange, considering what Grimmjow had said about her being driven off in a nice car. There were no automobiles matching the description anywhere along the street, either. Ulquiorra stood outside of the old brick building with barred up windows and a rickety fire escape, rang the woman's apartment number. "_Yes_?" came the melodious voice from the intercom.

"Ms. Inoue, my name is Ulquiorra Cifer. I'm a detective, working with the city police, and have a few questions for you."

"_For me_? _Ah, well, I suppose._" She buzzed him into the dry, musty staircase, and he walked up two flights before coming to her door. He knocked tentatively, waiting. A few seconds passed before the door opened, and the beautiful redhead stood before him.

She still wore her work clothes, had yet to even take the makeup off of her face. Her feet were bare, toes scrunching up on the carpet, trying to warm themselves. "Good evening," she said, brown eyes wide and brimming with curiosity. "Please, come in. Shall I hang your coat somewhere? It's rather damp."

"No need," Ulquiorra said as he stepped past her. "This won't take long." The apartment was simple enough; impersonally decorated, as if the furniture had been carelessly selected from the page of an IKEA catalog. No pictures of friends and family anywhere. No pets, or signs of them. Just this morning's newspaper on the kitchen counter, and a purse tossed onto the couch in the living room, contents spilling: lipstick, a compact mirror, a checkbook…

Ms. Inoue fidgeted nervously. "I've never met a detective before," she confessed. "Why exactly do you need to speak with me?"

Ulquiorra remembered what the reporter had said earlier. "Ms. Inoue, a few hours ago, police discovered a body floating down the bay. It was that of your friend, Ichigo Kurosaki – " the woman gasped loudly " – and we think that – "

"No. No, that can't. That can't be!" Her eyes filled with tears, her voice barely above a whisper. "K-Kurosaki was…?"

"Killed, yes. Single gunshot wound to the back of the head. His body was dumped in the…"

"No, no, _no! _This isn't right! I saw him just the other day, I…!" The woman's entire body had begun to shake, sobs racking her small frame and causing her massive chest to heave. "Why? Who could do such a thing?"

"That's what we're trying to find out, Ms. Inoue. Your cooperation would be very much…"

Ms. Inoue let out a strangled wail, clasped a hand over her mouth and stumbled towards the sofa. But she did not sit; she stood there, face covered, sobbing loudly into her palms. Ulquiorra hoped that his ensuing sigh did not come off as annoyed. It was these kinds of theatrics that he hated, that slowed him down more than anything else. He couldn't stand the sight of a woman crying, let alone such a stunning one.

But she was a suspect. He couldn't go feeling sorry for her just yet.

"Ms. Inoue, I understand that you are distraught. However, I need to ask you a number of questions regarding the victim, your location yesterday and…"

"I-It's alright! I understand," _gasp_, "I'm so sorry, I just," _sob_, "he was one of my best friends and – Oh God, Rukia! Does Rukia already know? Oh _no_!" Ms. Inoue erupted into a fresh wave of hysterics, and Ulquiorra's shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Do you need something to drink, Ms. Inoue? A glass of water, perhaps?"

A nod, amidst angst-ridden moans.

He went into the kitchen and flipped on the light. It was small, meticulously clean. Under the pretense of looking for glasses, he began quietly pulling open all the cabinets in search of a murder weapon. Dishes, bowls, canned and boxed goods, spices, medicine and glasses… but no gun. He frowned. Without a search warrant, he'd have to make stumbling upon the weapon sheer coincidence.

This was going to be tricky.

After filling a glass with water, he came back into the living room, where Ms. Inoue sat doubled over, her arms up over her head as if she were expecting a bomb to drop. She had calmed enough so that she only let out the occasional whimper, but she was still shaking plenty. Ulquiorra placed the water on the table in front of her.

"What can you tell me about the victim, Ichigo Kurosaki?" With no other chairs around, he had no choice but to sit next to the mourning female. She lifted her head, turned to look at him.

"What _can't _I tell you about him?" was her response, a weak smile breaking through. "He was an amazing man. Such a loyal friend. I can't believe that he's…" her bottom lip trembled, and she took up the glass of water, swallowing a few gulps. "He, uh… he went to high school with me. We were in the same circle of friends, and even though he was kind of a grump, and always fighting, he never stirred up trouble without a good reason."

"Did he have any enemies?"

"No! Absolutely not!" Orihime cried. "He wasn't that kind of man, one who people held grudges against. On the contrary, he was the kind of man that people were _drawn _to."

Ulquiorra's piercing green eyes locked onto hers. "Yourself included, Ms. Inoue?"

"Please, call me Orihime. You're making me feel like an elementary school teacher." She wiped her cheeks furiously, sniffling. "If you're asking whether I had a romantic interest in him, then yes. He was my first love." Ulquiorra nodded. _Figures_. "But you know, I was really happy for him when he got together with Rukia. She's my best friend, after all." Orihime smiled wider. "And you know, when I went over to his place the other day, he showed me… an engagement ring. He was going to propose to her."

"So you shot him."

"What?"

"I'm kidding." Ulquiorra blinked slowly. "Sorry. It's too early for jokes, isn't it?" He gestured for her to drink more water. "Though I am curious to know where you were yesterday."

"What time yesterday?" Orihime spoke into her glass.

"All day."

She set the water down and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Yesterday… I woke up a little later than usual, but managed to get to work on time. My day job, that is. I work at the bakery on Menos Grande Avenue." Her hands were still shaking, Ulquiorra noticed. "I was feeling a little under the weather once my shift ended, but had to buy groceries, so I called my friend Uryuu Ishida to help me. He's so sweet. Made me tea and everything, even though I told him not to worry."

Ulquiorra nodded, checking off the reporter's alibi. "And after he left?"

"I took a short nap, then fixed myself dinner. Watched an hour of television before heading off to the lounge."

"Is there anyone who can vouch for you being home?"

Orihime thought for a moment. "My next door neighbor, Erika. She came by to ask me if I could babysit for her next weekend. B-But if that doesn't work, there's a crazy old homeless man across the street that sees everything around here. I give him bread sometimes. He'll be able to tell you if I was home or not."

Ulquiorra looked away from her, thinking. If she had a solid alibi, then he wouldn't be able to search the place. There was motive, certainly. He'd seen it once or twice: jealous woman offs the man she loves for getting together with someone else. But despite the bits and pieces of evidence pointing to her, he couldn't grasp onto anything solid.

Orihime Inoue… what was she hiding?

His eyes widened. _Inoue_. Of course! Why hadn't he seen it before? "Don't worry. I believe you, Ms. Inoue," he said, and was surprised when a hand suddenly came up and touched his cheek.

"_Orihime_," she insisted, her lips forming around each syllable. "Please."

"Orihime," he repeated slowly.

The woman smiled. "There you go." She withdrew her hand, hugged herself tightly. "I'm so sorry that I broke down on you like that. It's just so sad. And so _frightening_, thinking that such a thing happened to someone so close to me."

"No one ever expects these things to happen to their loved ones."

"No, of course not."

Ulquiorra was running out of excuses. He needed to see the rest of the apartment, somehow. "Ah, a quick question for you, Ms. – err, Orihime." She beamed at him through her tears, as if he were a pet that had just sat on command. "You mentioned that you'd gone to visit Mr. Kurosaki the other day."

She nodded. "Yes. I took him some of the extra bread from work sometimes. He was a very hard worker; barely had time to go shopping for himself."

"How considerate of you," he commented dryly. "Your story checks out. A neighbor of Kurosaki's said that he'd seen you that day, and that you'd left in a black town car." He lifted his gaze to hers. "Yet, I didn't see one outside."

"Oh, it's not mine. It belongs to my friend, Tsubaki."

"What kind of car do you drive, Ms. Inoue?"

Orihime's posture remained stiff. "I don't have a car, detective. Too expensive, and I can take the bus to most places."

"True. Public transportation is a marvelous thing." He brought out his phone and began typing another message, this one requesting a check on every town car and Tsubaki in the city. But as he was writing, lightning flashed outside and Ms. Inoue jumped, her hand flying up and knocking the phone out of his hand. A loud _boom _rattled the apartment one second later, and the lights flickered once before the power went out.

"I'm so sorry!" Ms. Inoue whispered, her breath quickening. "I-I don't do well in thunderstorms."

"That's quite alright." Ulquiorra glared at the phone on the floor. He couldn't pick it up now without alerting her to what he was doing. Luckily, she didn't seem keen on pursuing an investigation. In fact, judging by the way she suddenly sidled up next to him, she appeared determined to prevent _his_.

"I'm glad that you're here, Detective Cifer. If I'd been alone tonight, after hearing of Kurosaki's death, I-I… I don't know what I would have done."

Were those her breasts pressing into his arm? "You wouldn't have done anything, Ms. Inoue."

And there was her hand on his cheek again, turning his head to face her in the darkness. "_Orihime_," she breathed. Lightning flashed through the window, briefly illuminating her half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks. She didn't even flinch.

_This is a bad idea_, Ulquiorra thought as she drew even closer to him. _A very bad idea_. However, it was the perfect excuse, the one that he'd been looking for. So he let her kiss him the first time, hesitating to respond. Hell, he even decided to put up a fight. "Ms. Inoue," he pulled away, "we shouldn't be doing this."

"No?" came the whimpering tone, before her lips were on his again.

God, she really _was_ gorgeous, though. He supposed that if it had to end like this, if he had to use such dirty tactics to get his evidence, then he was glad that it was with such a knockout. "Don't get me wrong," he said as she began kissing his neck, "you're a very attractive young woman."

"Mmm…"

"But considering the gravity of the situation, I think that we should keep things as professional as possible."

Her eyes met his. "Please, detective, won't you keep me company until the storm is over?" she pleaded breathlessly, running her fingers through his hair.

Oh, she was good. "I suppose I couldn't go out into that tempest, could I?" And with that, she was in his lap, her warm lips pushing against his more insistently than before. He briefly wondered how she could possibly be straddling him in such a form-fitting dress, then felt the slits along each side of the fabric. Oh, the temptation! But he settled for slipping his arms around her waist, returning her eager kisses.

This woman was determined to make him forget what he was doing, wasn't she?

Her wandering hands managed to get the heavy trench coat off of him, then splayed across his back, fingers digging into his shirt, a soft moan further enticing him. Ulquiorra pulled the clip out of her hair, letting the long auburn tresses cascade down her body. He murmured against her lips, "Isn't the sofa a little uncomfortable?"

A wicked gleam went through the woman's eyes. She kissed him again, then stood up and took his hand, leading him away from the living room. Ulquiorra went along without complaints. _I've got her now_…

He meant that in more ways than one, of course.

…

Ulquiorra did not sleep that night, though Ms. Inoue seemed content to curl up against him and doze off after two or three rounds. Pity that such a seductive woman had to be a killer, he thought as he redressed in the morning, casting a wary glance at her alarm clock. 8:30am, on the dot. She'd gotten up precisely thirty minutes before, sneaking out of the room on tip-toe while he'd pretended to be asleep.

If he was right about her guilty verdict – and he was seldom ever wrong – then she had probably gone straight to the living room to check the message he had been trying to send the night before. Which meant that he was in an extremely dangerous position right now.

"Detective?" Ms. Inoue's sweet voice came from halfway down the hall.

She was headed his way. Ulquiorra took up his discarded shirt and threw it on over his shoulders, moving quietly behind the bedroom door. He waited. She was moving awfully slow, wasn't she? He caught a flash of skin through the crack between the door and the frame, but what appeared first wasn't the woman's body; it was the barrel of a gun, pointed towards the bed.

"Detective…?" she crooned again.

When the entire gun appeared, as well as the gloved hand holding it, Ulquiorra made his move. He grabbed her wrist, jerked it upwards. Two muted shots were fired at the ceiling before he managed to wrestle her into the bedroom. He hit the gun out of her hand, kicked it into the corner of the room and slammed her against the wall, pressing his body into hers to prevent her from thrashing. "Good morning."

"Let go of me!" she hissed, hair whipping about her head wildly.

"You know, when I said that I admired your aggressiveness, I meant _in bed_."

Ms. Inoue let out a frustrated cry and slammed her skull into his face, successfully stunning him enough to break free. But he managed to hook his arms around hers, holding her tight as she kicked her legs, trying to get to the gun.

Ulquiorra winced and swallowed the blood filling his mouth. Ugh, he'd bitten his damn tongue. "Not so fast, Ms. Inoue. You're under arrest for the murder of Ichigo Kurosaki. You have the right to remain silent, yada yada… the police know them better than I do."

Orihime shook her head fiercely. "I didn't shoot him!"

"Of course you didn't shoot him. The daughter of a former mob boss must have enough connections to keep herself from lifting a finger." He felt her go limp in shock. "What, did you think I was stupid? That I wouldn't remember the Inoue family? You may have been a baby when your parents were killed, but the mob had nothing against you. They took care of you, allowed you to use their resources, hired hitman included."

"No!" Orihime whimpered, jerking in his arms again.

"He did quite the number on your beloved Kurosaki, you know. How do you suppose he did it? Think he made him kneel before he shot him? Do you wonder if it hurt, Ms. Inoue?"

She was silent now, staring at the ground. "I… I never wanted him to die."

"Really?" Ulquiorra kept a firm hold on her arms and reached into his back pocket, withdrawing a pair of handcuffs. "Should have thought of that before you had him whacked." He slipped one cuff around her wrist, the other around one of the bedpost's iron bars. There. Now she wouldn't be able to grab the gun.

She fell to her knees, slumping over. Her expression was neither defeated nor remorseful. In fact, she looked annoyed. "You can't do this to me, detective," she said in a low voice. "Do you really think that you have enough evidence to convict me? My lawyers are going to tear you to pieces."

"Oh, so you can afford lawyers now?" Ulquiorra finished buttoning his shirt and headed for the hallway.

"Detective…" Her tone was harsh, vindictive. "_Detective_!" she shrieked. He heard the handcuffs clatter against the iron bar and cast a look over his shoulder. She was absolutely striking, even more so now that she'd dropped the innocent act, he thought.

"Stay beautiful, Ms. Inoue," he said before walking out the door at exactly 8:49am.

…

Well, she'd smashed his cell phone, so he'd had to borrow hers to call headquarters. He sat on the curb outside of the apartment building, waiting. Within minutes, the street was swarmed by cop cars, their piercing sirens giving Ulquiorra a headache. He must have looked awful; Officer Shiba cringed when he saw him. "What happened to your face?"

"Karma, I think." Ulquiorra slid his jaw back and forth to make sure that it wasn't actually broken. "She's up there. Apartment 2C."

He followed the policemen into the building, but didn't volunteer to reenter the apartment. They could figure things out for themselves, and besides, the last thing he needed was to have that woman screaming at him. He was plenty satisfied with the sounds he'd gotten out of her the night before.

But a few seconds later, two officers ran outside, shouting to the others. Ulquiorra looked up quickly. "What is it?"

"She's gone!"

"Wha…" He pushed past them into the apartment, ignoring living room and hallway in favor of… an empty bedroom. All that remained were the handcuffs. "How the…" He turned back, bolting out of the apartment. Most of the officers were headed down, towards the street, but Ulquiorra chose to go up the stairs instead. Damn this woman, giving him more trouble than she was worth!

He threw open the door to the roof and emerged into the bright daylight, wincing. There was no sign of her anywhere. He jogged to the edge of the building, peered down into the street opposite the one on which the police were searching. And that's where he caught a glimpse of auburn hair waving in the breeze.

Several stories below him, Orihime Inoue was climbing into a black town car, a black-haired man with harsh features holding the door open for her. She paused when she saw Ulquiorra, and gave him a smile before the door was shut, tinted windows preventing the outside world from seeing her. Then they drove off in no hurry, merging into the morning traffic.

Ulquiorra stood in complete shock. He could have gone and told the police officers which direction she'd escaped in, but something within him cemented his feet to the rooftop. He couldn't say what it was exactly, though it felt a lot like the familiar rush of his own mob days: exciting, alluring, and dangerous… just like her. "What a fascinating woman," he muttered.

Sure, he would give her a head start for now. What fun was the job if he could pick up right where he left off? No. He'd need new clues, more time… perhaps a new office before her hitmen came and shot his full of holes. He'd have to alert the woman's friends that she was a killer at large with the mob on her side. He'd have to be careful. He'd have to be smart.

And he would look forward to the day that he met Orihime Inoue again.

**/The End/**

**A/N: **-has died of laughter- I apologize once again for unleashing this tragedy on the fandom. It's my birthday, you see. I was trying to entertain myself, and the Stay Beautiful ending was just too rich to pass up. Besides, I like it when Orihime is crafty and sexy. She's smarter than people give her credit for.

Err… I don't know what else to say. XD Thank you for reading! Until next time!

**/Princess Kitty1/**


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